It is a dark, dystopian world. Giant, bloodthirsty monsters roam the land, preying on anyone foolish enough to venture outside. Though you've lost the ability to understand WHY, you carry on. You and your loved ones rush from hiding place to hiding place, seeking out just enough food to fend off starvation while risking life and limb every time you venture out into visibility. You move under cover of darkness and spend your days cowering in any dark recess you can fit in. Your life is basically a Cormac McCarthy novel.
Eventually, you stumble across a cave. It's warm and quiet. There are no monsters in here, but you can hear them nearby. They seem to live below the cave, but appear to be unaware of your presence. You use the cave for shelter, still risking the outside world when hunger strikes, but overall you and your loved ones are much safer.
Then, suddenly, tragedy. One of your party slips and makes a noise that alerts the giants below to your presence. Before you can react one pokes its head up THROUGH THE FLOOR and scans the area, seeking you out. You freeze, terrified. It lasts only seconds but feels like centuries. Eventually the monstrous beast loses interest and disappears below the floor again. Your compatriots rejoice, silently, at having defied death. You have your doubts...
Three days later your daytime slumber is interrupted. The monsters are back! They seem less interested in you than the entrance to your home. One of them bolts a steel plate across the door, locking your group inside. Everyone panics, but in this world the only instinct that has served you well is to freeze and wait for danger to subside. You watch and wait. Eventually the floor moves again, and the ogre appears. He lays out several devices with food on them. The devices, you can tell, are evil. They will smash your brains in should you try to take any of the food. You know this. You've seen it happen before to friends.
But there's no escape. Your home, once so warm and comforting and safe, has become a tomb. Your allies scratch and dig at the walls in futility. The stress rises to palpable levels in the room. Your children cry out in fear. And slowly, insidiously, the hunger in all of you rises. The food beckons. You know in your heart the only escape is going to be the sweet release of death as a steel bar crashes down on your skull as you reach for your last meal.
That's basically what the rats in my attic are going through right now.